


Rains over Bisbee

by saturnina



Category: 3:10 to Yuma (2007)
Genre: Abuse of Metaphors, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blow Jobs, Gay Western, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:23:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnina/pseuds/saturnina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Yuma, Dan works and waits for the rains. Ben Wade gallops into Bisbee... and brings the storm in his wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rains over Bisbee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tealightwhimsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealightwhimsy/gifts).



The train hadn't even arrived at the Yuma station when Ben made his escape. It wasn't _that_ hard. A little chatter with the young, inexperienced guard who was supposed to take care of the prisoners during the night—and who had the bad habit of reading too many dime novels—, a quick eye to any mistakes and he got out of the cage and then out of the train. Ben even managed to rescue the Hand of God from the knocked-out young guard. He didn't shoot the poor fellow though; the boy would face hell anyway when his superiors found the empty cage.

His horse wasn't very far. The loyal animal followed the sound of his whistle no matter where it lead it. Ben mounted and decided what to do.

His first idea had been to return to Contention, but the town itself gave him the worst memories. His band was dead, which was bad even though had had killed them all himself. First he thought that his impulse of shooting them all came from the fact he didn't want them watching his humiliation of getting in the train on his own volition. Ben Wade didn't surrender—not unless he had a plan that involved him surrendering and then fooling his captors. But that hadn't been the case, originally.

Then he remembered that rancher's smile when they finally did it— _he_ did it. His pride. For the first time since the start of their journey, those green eyes had warmed.

And then they went blank, as Charlie mercilessly fired one bullet after the other into that weak body.

Green eyes. Greenest eyes... changing colours, all the shades of the sea. He had always expected to find those eyes in a woman, one that he would kidnap and take with him to that little town just south the border...

Instead, he found those eyes in a man. Ben huffed. _"God works in mysterious ways..."_

He rode into every small town and ranch looking for a way to get rid of those goddamned handcuffs. At least, in a small piece of nowhere called Middlemarch, he found someone with an ax and the balls to help him. Freedom, at last.

He wasn't sure where to go, but he knew it was best to lay low until he decided what do to. The idea of finding eight new guys and starting it all over again bothered him—it made him feel as if Evans' death had been in vain. _"That damned farmer..."_ , he thought with a bit a annoyance and a lot of something else—a feeling he couldn't name.

Ben rode, trying to stay in small towns where people wouldn't recognise him. Places that took ages for the news to reach. But a month after his escapade, he grew sick of those stale, dusty dead ends and decided he wanted a decent whiskey for a change. He rose upright in the stirrups and looked around. These dry plains looked just like any dry land, but then he looked at the horizon, nearly obscured by dark and heavy clouds, and immediately knew where he was going.

He spurred his horse on and galloped towards the coming storm. 

~*~

He had survived by some sort of miracle.  
A miracle and handful of good doctors hired by Mr. Butterfield, that's it.

Even though he had been back to his ranch for almost a month now, people still regarded him with some sort of hesitant respect. They thought he was a miracle-maker of some sort, who had done the impossible and survived certain death. There were now at least a thousand different tales on how Ben Wade got into that damned train. Some even said that Dan himself had killed Wade's band, and the idea made him smile bitterly—like he could have! He had been covered in bullet holes before he could even say "carnage".

Wade did it. Wade killed his own gang because one of them had shot him.

The idea still seemed absurd in his mind. Yet, for reasons Dan couldn't quite fathom, he clung to it like a lifeline.

The dark clouds hovered over the land, but no rain fell. Dan was certain it wouldn't take it long for the water to come, and he waited for it with bated breath. He could feel the moisture seep to his skin, and every hair in his body was standing, reacting sympathetically to the tension around him.

During the time he had been away, Alice had left the ranch with Mark and went to stay with her sister in a small but lively town called Lowell, not very far from Bisbee. She had been afraid of Wade's outfit, and of Hollander too. William had waited for his father to recover in Contention, but when they got back in the ranch, he decided to visit his mother and take the opportunity to deliver her the good news. Dan knew the boy probably just wanted the adventure of travelling alone, and since there was no more Wade to worry about, he let the boy go.

Of course, he had made the boy promise that he'd take care of himself. Will kept treating him as if he was a thorn in his side, but this time there was fondness in his eyes, not just harsh criticism. Dan could live with that.

That had been three weeks ago—his family hadn't returned yet.

Sometimes Dan thought it was for the best. He'd wait for the rains. He'd plant. And when his family returned, they'd see their land verdant and alive once more. He just wished now that his older boy would come back to give him a hand, but Lowell was certainly a much more exciting place to be than Bisbee.

"I can do this alone" he mentally told himself, as he drove his cattle back to his lands. Surprisingly enough, he managed to find a big part of it. Some animals had been stolen, but most of them were just scattered over the land. He guessed Bisbee wasn't that attractive to the thieves yet. He was sure the status of the city would improve a lot when the train came. If the train came.

And it would, eventually. Especially since there was no Ben Wade to steal the money.

Wade. He was thinking of Wade _again_.

Dan didn't understand why his mind kept revolving around him, and why he had this weird sensation at the bottom of his stomach that felt a bit too much like _hope_. Hope that somehow the man had escaped the noose. Hope that he'd return to Bisbee. Hope that he'd remember Dan. Old, tired, one-legged Dan. The idea made him scoff as much as it made his chest ache.

He closed his eyes, feeling the stillness around him. The air was so dense and humid that he could barely breathe. He worried about his younger son... certainly the strange weather must be affecting his already poor health. Those had been some unusual three weeks, with the dark clouds perpetually hanging in the sky without shedding a single drop. Even the wind had stopped blowing, as if the entire nature was bracing itself for the storm.

But the rains refused to fall and Dan felt drops of his own sweat slide down his skin, into his already wet shirt. He touched the back of his head and his hair was damp with his own perspiration. Every part of his body felt sticky, and his limbs felt heavy as if made of lead.

He felt restless under the dark sky. The stale air smothered him. And in the quiet stillness of the world, in which all sounds had ceased to exist, he could hear a distinctive raspy voice; could sense a grin etched in every word. The voice talked in his head, and drove him nearly insane. Wade. Wade and his dark hat, his impish blue eyes and naughty smile. Even if he hadn't survived his last trip to Yuma, Dan knew that Ben Wade would live forever behind his eyelids.

He shook his head—these weren't thoughts for a decent man.

The sky was becoming darker, so Dan decided to call it a day. He rode back home, washed himself, ate whatever that was left on the stove and went to bed. These endless, airless days tired him. He felt stuck in a bubble, carrying the weight of the skies upon his shoulder.

 _"Oh Lord... jus' make it rain!"_ , he prayed inside his mind.

Before his mind sank into oblivion, a peculiar smell tickled his nose.  
The smell of water. The smell of longing.

A smell that reminded him of Ben Wade.

~*~

He hadn't plan to stop by the Evans Ranch as he rode towards Bisbee. God, he hadn't even _considered_ dropping by Bisbee in the first place. But as much as he disliked seeing his best-laid plans going to waste, there was a part of him that had learnt to enjoy the unexpected challenges and joys that fate laid before him. It was a siren's song he could not resist.

Ben sighed under the grey skies. He did need a place to stay for the night; perhaps he could sweet talk Alice in exchange for a roof.

Ben was aware that instead of a place to sleep, he might get a bullet between his eyes. But for some reason, he doubted it.

Tugging at his reins, he trotted towards the familiar house.

~*~

An insistent knock on his door woke Dan from his dreams.  
_"William!"_ he thought, and scampered out of his bedroom to greet his son.

But it wasn't his son's lithe frame that waited for him behind the door. Dan knew who it was before he even looked at the visitor's face. The way his emotions welled up inside him, spread through his veins and made his legs—wooden one included—go limp was enough for him to know it. His mind didn't have to recognise Ben Wade; his body did.

"Dan," the gunslinger stated neutrally, as though seeing Dan alive wasn't enough to surprise him.

"Wade," Dan didn't like the obvious quiver in his voice.

"Ben, Dan. Just Ben."

The night was suffocating in it's relentless stagnancy. Both panted softly in each other's face, refusing to move or to speak.

A thunder crackled in the distance. The sound of the inevitable. 

"Where's your wife, Dan?"

There was no real curiosity in Ben's voice.  
Dan beckoned him to enter, before answering.

"She ain't here. The boys aren't either."

"Good," stated the other, with a wry smile, "so now the house's haunted."

Dan shook his head as both men sat around the table, in the pitch-dark room.

"I ain't no ghost Wade."

A pause.

"How d'you survived?"

Now Wade sounded genuinely curious.

Dan shrugged; he didn't know the answer himself. "A miracle, I s'ppose."

Wade nodded, and their words died for a while. Dan got up and found a lantern to illuminate the room. Wade was atypically silent, staring at him in that way of his that made the farmer self-conscious. Trying to brush his awkwardness aside, Dan fetched two glasses and the only bottle of cheap liquor he had at home, before attempting to start a conversation.

"How d'you escape?"

"T'was easy. I jumped off the train before it reached Yuma," he answered before downing the entire glass at once.

"I figured you'd do so," remarked Dan, looking at his own drink but not touching it.

Then Wade lifted his eyes to meet Dan's. The farmer felt the intense stare touch the top of his skull and drill into it, probing him. Reading him. He closed his eyes but then Wade's peculiar drawl assaulted his ears.

"Well... I didn't figure that _you_ were alive, Dan." Ben looked at his empty glass and then his eyes rose once more to meet Dan's. "If I'd known it, I would've returned sooner."

Dan pretended he didn't care to know what Wade meant by that observation.

"You need a place to stay, yeah?" he asked, dryly. 

"Yeah. Only for the night."

"You can use the boys' bedroom then."

Dan left the room without looking behind. He lay on his bed, listening the soft clunk of Wade boots as he moved around inside the house. He heard the sound of water as the other washed himself. His ears even caught the rustle of his clothes being removed, first the jacket, then the shirt, boots and pants. The boys bed made a creaking sound, and Dan imagined Wade's heavy bulk lying atop the worn sheets, blue eyes drifting closed. He could see Ben's chest rise and fall. If he breathed in deeply enough, Ben's watery tang would fill his nose. 

Dan's breath was coming now in laboured gasps, his heart hammering in his ribcage. His limbs shuddered lightly in anxious expectation.  
He felt the rain-clouds above his house pull at him; they begged for release.

And much to his dismay, so did him.

~*~

Dan woke up again feeling agitated. He looked outside. Still night.

He let out a shuddering breath and sat on the bed, stooping down to pull his boots on. Since he couldn't sleep he might just as well get up and do something useful. He didn't bother to change his shirt or pants; no one was watching him anyway. 

Dan stepped absentmindedly into the main room of his house, but the sudden movement of a familiar figure stopped him in his tracks. His heart leapt to his throat, and he had a hard time swallowing it back. 

Apparently insomnia wasn't his prerogative.

"Wade?"

"It's Ben, Dan. _Ben!_ Do I have to spell it out for ya?"

Dan paced around the room, trying to calm himself. He didn't even know why he was so nervous, but he imagined it had something to do with Ben's unexpected visit and the rains that never came no matter how much he prayed for them. Wade watched him, nonchalantly.

"Couldn't sleep too?" he asked, grinning at the farmer's obvious chagrin.

"Yeah."

"I guess it's the weather. Can't sleep well when the very air is stiflin' ya."

Dan just nodded, and kept walking in circles. Wade's lackadaisical glance quickly turned into a puzzling one. It reminded Dan of the look he had received back in Contention, after claiming that he wasn't stubborn. The mixture between respect and bewilderment, tinted with a bit of cynicism that was so typically Wade's. The memory made Dan walk even faster.

All of sudden, a pair of strong arms forced him to a halt. Dan looked at Wade, and Wade's eyes once again bore directly into his.

"Dan... walking in circles 'till you collapse ain't gonna fix whatever is bothering you in that thick skull of yours."

Dan tried to keep his cool, but his frayed nerves weren't helping. He just huffed, rather vexed, trying to extricate himself from Wade's grip. 

"Wade, let go."

"Dan," the other started again, tightening his grasp on Dan's arms, "listen, I've only seen men get this fidgety for two reasons. First, because they are getting robbed," and he grabbed Dan's chin and yanked his head forward, "second, because their wives ain't doing their job at home. As I ain't taking anything from you right now, I can only assume that the second option is the right one."

And Wade kissed him.

Dan felt every muscle in his body tense, as Ben's mouth devoured his and his hands tugged at his clammy shirt. He couldn't remember when he began to touch Ben's chest, or when he began to kiss him back hungrily. He couldn't remember when was the last time he had been so intimately touched—but his body hurried to meet the onslaught, making up for the lost time. He racked his fingers through Ben's hair and nipped at his lips. Ben's tongue slipped into his mouth, battling with his for control as his hand slid downwards to fondle Dan's growing bulge through his pants. A part of Dan's mind nagged him about all the reasons why this was so wrong; yet, he couldn't make his body stop. 

Ben forcefully pushed him away, ending the kiss with the same violence it had started. Dan was panting, his skin tingling where Ben had touched him.

"I was right then," Ben whispered, with that voice the devil himself must have used to offer Eve that goddamned apple. A wild smirk formed across his face.

Embarrassment crept into Dan's stomach; he glared furiously at Wade before turning on his heels and stomping back to him room. He looked at the bed, but there was no way his body would let him sleep. Instead, he walked towards the window and stared outside, at the empty lands. His hands gripped the window still tightly, as if he needed it to keep himself upright. Maybe if he looked at the stillness of the nature for long enough, his mind, his heart—and, most importantly, his body—would settle too.

~*~

Ben figured it would be best if he just let Dan be, although he could bet his bottom dollar that the other would not sleep tonight. Not without getting some release, although Ben had the impression that the farmer was so prude he was barely acquainted with what hung between his legs.

He chortled at himself, staring fixedly at the door Dan had disappeared behind a few moments ago. He could still taste the other between his lips, feel his sweat in his hands, his smell all over him. 

Ben heard another thunder, this time closer. He could feel it's electricity all over his skin. He'd get what he wanted. He was Ben Wade—he always got what he wanted. 

He strode towards Dan and Alice's bedroom confidently.

~*~

Dan didn't move when Bed stopped beside him. 

"Dan... I'll leave, alright? If you really want me to go, I'll go." Ben rested both his hand on the other man's tense shoulders. "Just say the word, and I'm gone."

"I don't want you gone, Ben."

The outlaw was actually surprised by the answer. He had expected the other to growl, to stubbornly refuse his company, or at least to go all grumpy and quiet on him. But the man had given the most sincere—and unexpected, and highly desired—response and, God!, Ben could have jumped him right now. It was so bad he wanted to eat Dan alive, quench his need for the other's flesh and blood, a need that had plagued him since their first night camping together, an eternity ago. But the hands that on the window sill did not loosen their grip, Dan's knuckles turning white, whiter, until they indeed looked like they belonged to a ghost.

"C'mere Dan. I know better uses for these hands of yours than crushing the window sill," he whispered in Dan's ear, and was rewarded with a light shudder.

At this, Dan turned around and looked straight into Ben's eyes, his stare intense, dark green like bay leaves. There was a bit of smugness in his face, and Ben couldn't help but chuckle—he liked that side of Dan better than his stern one.

"You're bastard, Wade. So full of yourself."

"Well Dan, it's you who said you didn't want me gone." Ben closed the distance between them, a wolfish gleam in his eyes. "And by the way, the name's Ben, Dan. _Ben_."

Dan didn't attempt to escape this time, when Ben seized his chin and crushed their mouths together in a harsh kiss.

~*~

What surprised Dan was not the fact that he was losing control, as Ben forcefully pulled him away from the window and guided him towards the bed between heated kisses. The loss of control was frightening, yes, but the fact that he wanted it—wanted Ben to take the reins an give him something he couldn't even name—the terrible power of his own _need_ frightened him much more than any of Ben's actions. Dan used all his willpower to keep quiet, to keep pretending he didn't want this, didn't want Ben, but the air around him was getting warm, warmer and his breathing more and more erratic every time Ben's fingertips ran across his skin.

He felt that each of Ben's touch was like a lightening, striking his skin and reverberating through the many layers of his being, burning away all reason for shame and embarrassment. Because despite Ben's roughness, in every movement there was something akin to reverence, as if he was unveiling a precious lady, not a wretched rancher in a godforsaken land. And when Dan tried to move to hide his wooden leg or his terrible scars, Ben stopped his hands and broke their kiss to look deep into Dan's eyes.

"Don't—don't hide, Dan. Not from me."

Like he could hide, with Ben's blue eyes and brazen touches stripping him bare against his will. He could hear Ben muttering sweet nothings, something to do with beautiful and gorgeous and other stuff that made Dan want to _laugh_ , 'cause he didn't believe a word of it but it still felt good to listen to them. 

Hot lips suddenly found his neck again, biting and sucking and making sure there would be marks in the morning. Dan grabbed Ben's hair and pulled him up to kiss him feverishly on the mouth, allowing their lips to battle heatedly against each other again, and muffling the needy and ungodly sounds that threatened to escape his throat. 

Naked flesh met naked flesh and Dan felt Ben's hand travel down his torso to touch him there, right _there_ where no man should even touch himself according to God. But God was so far away, He had abandoned him and his family and his land and now Dan was a creature of little faith. He chose instead to idolise a man, a real man like himself, the man who right now slithered down his body to—

" _Christ!_ Ben!"

—engulf his hardening flesh and make Dan forget all uncertainties and finally release all sounds that had been stuck in his throat for so long. He felt, more than heard, Ben groan in appreciation as he kept coaxing the sweetest reactions out of Dan. 

The rancher felt a growing weight settle in his groin, like a terrible pressure that he found hard to hold back but could not quite release yet. He had forgotten how it was, this delicious pain—sex had become such a rare thing with his wife, and mechanical when it happened—and his hips became heavier and heavier, even though they moved now with more abandon than ever. He felt that point inside him contract more and more until he thought he'd collapse into himself but instead he exploded, unexpectedly, a rather awful sensuality consuming him in wave after wave of liquid heat. His moan pierced through the stale air and Dan felt the whole nature follow him in his release.

Dan returned to his body slowly, first becoming conscious of his leaden limbs, then feeling the hard mattress against his back. He opened his eyes to meet Ben's smug smile, the bandit's eyes alight with affection and pride. His lover asked him something, but Dan's hearing was dulled by a frequent low rumbling, like a distant thunder. He couldn't tell whether the sound came from outside or was just the deafening beat of his own desire, still drumming in his ears.

The soft pitter-patter of water against the window sill gave him the answer.

~*~

Dan woke up to the sound of rain and to the feeling of soft lips down his neck and shoulders, but this time he didn't fight them. Like the heavens that had finally released their bounty, Dan opened himself to Ben and gave him everything he had. He held back no sound, no gesture, the tension all but gone from his body that now felt like shapeless clay, like wet earth, begging for a force of nature to come and give it shape. Give it purpose.

Ben was that force of nature. Unruly, frightening, terribly beautiful.  
He had been what Dan needed all along, and now he was here. 

At times, intrusive thoughts about time and future crossed his mind, but they were quickly obliterated by Ben's body as it moved and invited Dan to move with him, in the unique cadence of lovers, that in times like this know nothing but each other. 

It was a strange day in Bisbee. Children played in the mud while their elders stayed inside their houses, feeling something between gratefulness and disquiet when they looked at the dark skies. The shy sun hid for long hours, refusing to break through the heavy clouds. It was an unborn day, and no ray of light dared to disturb the two bodies that quenched their mutual thirst, as the rains finally fell over the parched land.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Disclaimer:** None of the characters mentioned in this fanfic belong to me, and nothing said here about them is true. No copyright infringement is intended.


End file.
